Weathering Storms with Three New Queer-Inclusive Middle Grade Books

I’m still thinking about natural disasters today—and about three queer-inclusive middle grade books just out this year that prominently feature major weather events—along with young people finding strength as they go through them.

Hurricane Child, by Kacen Callender (Scholastic), is the lyrical story of 12-year-old Caroline Murphy, born “wailing over the wind and rain” during a hurricane in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Her mother has left her and her father for someplace unknown, her classmates bully her, and her attempts to assert herself lead to near expulsion from her Catholic school on St. Thomas. She also sees a mysterious spirit shaped like a woman, whom she thinks no one else can see. Then a new girl, Kalinda, arrives, and Caroline feels a growing attraction to her, although their community believes that such feelings are sinful. Caroline tries to face her feelings for Kalinda—and Kalinda’s response—figure out what the spirit means, and learn why her mother left. The story comes to its denouement as another tropical storm bears down upon them.

Callender was born and raised in St. Thomas, and easily immerses the reader in the little details of everyday life there—foods like salted stew beef and boiled plantain; children digging for crabs; marketplaces full of White tourists, with shopkeepers who cast suspicious eyes on local children. But it is Caroline’s interior landscape that is the focus of the story, told through a first-person perspective that will draw readers in even if they are not familiar with the setting. This is a beautifully told tale and highly recommended.

Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World, by Ashley Herring Blake (Little, Brown) begins on the night a tornado destroys 12-year-old Ivy’s home and her family—mom, dad, older sister and twin infant brothers—are displaced. That serves as a metaphor for Ivy’s feelings as her mom focuses her energies on the twins, her best friend only talks about boys, and Ivy begins to feel “giddy and trembly” around June, another girl she is coming to know. Those are problems enough to deal with—but then Ivy’s notebook of precious drawings is stolen, and she finds her sketches mysteriously appearing in her school locker with notes from someone who appears to know about her attraction. Is it June?

Blake captures the longing of adolescent crushes; the uncertainty of realizing a same-sex attraction; and the search for friendship and identity that any middle schooler encounters. She weaves in a friendly neighborhood lesbian innkeeper (a Black woman whose fiancée, a Latina, is identified as bisexual) who supports Ivy (who reads as White) with wise advice about not needing to label herself; an older sister with a queer friend; and the angst of an upcoming school dance. It’s a warm and insightful story about finding oneself even as one is searching for connection with others.

The Lotterys More or Less, by Emma Donoghue (Arthur A. Levine/Scholastic), continues the adventures of the Toronto family we first met in The Lotterys Plus One (reviewed here), consisting of two same-sex couples (one male, one female) who became best friends and decided to grow a family together through both childbearing and adoption. Sumac, the nine-year-old middle child out of seven, feels responsible for making sure their family’s winter holiday celebrations go according to plan. But an ice storm traps one dad and a brother out of the country and the city loses power. Can Sumac make sure their holiday (incorporating a variety of traditions from their family members and neighbors) is still a success? I won’t write more here, since I’m reviewing the book (and some others) more fully for my upcoming newspaper column; suffice it to say that it’s as funny and engaging as the first. (It’s not officially out until October 9, but you can pre-order it.)

Books can’t save anyone from a storm, of course, but these tales remind us that sometimes facing one can bring out the best in ourselves and our communities. Wishing you all resilience and safety if you’re going through storms right now, real or metaphorical.

(I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program that provides a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.)

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